Apollo listened eagerly, taking notes as Mr. Gavin interviewed their client.
After a while his boss turned to him with a sweet smile. “Today’s an interesting day, Justice. This case is worth doing a little of our own investigation.”
“Sir?” Apollo gave him a quizzical look. Defense Attorneys weren’t strictly allowed on crime scenes after all– that was prosecutorial business.
Gavin wagged a finger at him however. “Tut tut, Justice. We won’t do anything illegal, obviously. Come along. The game’s afoot!”
–
They’d been poking around the scene of the crime for about an hour. Mr. Gavin had gotten permission from the detective in charge with a smiling conversation.
It was thrilling, really. Not part of the job that he typically had gotten to see yet in his internship. Not technically part of the job at all, though he knew his idol, Phoenix Wright was known for doing such things.
Still, the more they investigated, the more Apollo began to feel unsettled.
“Sir,” Apollo finally said, pulling his boss aside quietly. “I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this.”
Gavin cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Do elaborate, Justice.”
“Well…” he rubbed his arm, his fingers trailing over his old bracelet. “I’m starting to get the feeling that our client actually did it.”
Kristoph Gavin smiled. “Oh, is that all? Yes, Justice, well spotted. That does seem to be the very likely probability. I’ve expected that the entire time. Even before I took her case.”
Apollo looked up at him with wide eyes. “You did? But–”
“The law is absolute, Apollo,” Kristoph said, lifting his chin up. “It is absolute, and it applies equally to every person, to widows and to orphans, in every case, without regard for pity. But courtroom procedure, thank lady justice, is part of the law. Our client may have killed someone, but we will see to it that the law does not find her guilty. I invoked Sherlock Holmes earlier, did I not?”
“You did,” Apollo murmured.
“In the stories of Sherlock Holmes, it was solving the mysteries that were important to Holmes,” Kristoph explained. “He often, in his mercy, let a criminal escape. Refused to explain the mystery or even lied to the police to allow it to be so. Sometimes the law and justice are incompatible.”
“The law and justice are incompatible?”
“Sometimes,” Kristoph said. “The law is absolute, as I said. It is a blunt instrument when its wielded by the prosecution, without pity and without mercy. We are Defense Attorneys. And it is our job– our duty– to protect our client from the law wherever we can. It is their right to a good defense.”
“But…” Apollo wrinkled his nose. “But sir, she killed someone.”
“Indeed,” Kristoph agreed. “At least that would appear to be the case. But what do you think of the victim? Now that we’ve had a chance to do some investigating.”
Apollo bit his lip, thinking over the evidence. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. “It ah, it seems like he beat her quite badly, sir. For a long time.”
“And do you think our client has suffered enough, perhaps?” Kristoph looked down at his student.
“I don’t know, sir, that’s not up to me to decide.”
Kristoph shook his head. “No, Apollo Justice, it isn’t. It’s up to the judge to decide. The law is our battlefield, and we are defense attorneys. A defense attorney is a shield against the attack of the law. And the law attacks the evil, and the good with equal and pitiless ferocity. We must do our duty as a proper shield. If you would like to be a sword of the law instead, you will have to join the prosecution.”
“I… understand, sir,” Apollo said, thinking it over. “It just seems… morally dubious.”
“Perhaps, Justice. But the law and morality aren’t the same thing. The law is a great web in which we are all ensnared. Thank lady justice that the web has as many holes as it does strands, wouldn’t you say?”
Kristoph offered his hand to his pupil. “Now come along, Justice, and we’ll properly prepare our shield at the office.”
“Well,” Hook said, grinning as Jane peered into the mirror. “There’s no little girl I see here in this room, but a strong young pirate. And what shall we call you, then?”
Jane fussed with the hat, and adjusted the buttons of the coat, watching the reflection in the mirror.
The captain was right– there was no little girl looking back, and Jane had never felt so at ease– had never felt quite so pleased to look in the mirror at all.
“When my mother told stories,” Jane said thoughtfully, “Her pirate was called Jill, wasn’t she? Red Handed Jill?”
Smee perked up from behind the Captain. “You know I remembered some of those stories. I think we almost got her on the crew, captain.”
"Almost.“ Hook smoothed his mustache and his forget–me-not blue eyes sparkled. "But go on, crewman, what will ye be called?”
“Jack,” the fresh young pirate answered. He touched the image in the reflection with surprisingly steady fingers. “If my mother would have been Jill, then I’ll be your man Jack.”
Hook laid his hand on one of Jack’s shoulders, and hook on the other. “Welcome aboard, Jack.”
obsessed with characters who were written for one another. like, what do you mean the reason for my existence is to be by your side? what do you mean our divine purpose is to belong to one another, for better or worse?
